


Pain Without Pleasure

by CruelKittenThesis



Category: CLAMP - Works, X -エックス- | X/1999
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Masterbation, Mild eroguro, Pain addiction, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:40:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4032193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CruelKittenThesis/pseuds/CruelKittenThesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you can't receive love, you crave pain. FuuKam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pain Without Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> God, I'm sorry everyone. This is the first complete fanfic I've written in months, and considering the content, I feel like I should apologize to someone.

"He kissed me," Kamui said softly, to himself, as if to confirm the event had actually happened. He wasn't sure why he was thinking of that now. With everything else that had happened, the kisses Fuuma gave him had always by shoved away, out of sight, because he couldn't, and didn't want to, think about them. It hurt too much, it filled his heart with confusion and longing. 

However, tonight, Kamui couldn't stop the memories from returning, they slipped in the cracks in his mind until they occupied his thoughts. The softness of his lips. The smell of dust, mixed with the overwhelming smell of blood. The way Fuuma's tongue has hotly licked at his neck. The way his knee harshly rubbed against Kamui's erection. 

He cried out, feeling himself get hard. He was disgusting, feeling this way about Fuuma. He shouldn't be thinking about this, shouldn't be having these thoughts. He wanted him so badly, wanted Fuuma to kiss him and hold him, and fill him up with himself. 

And it didn't even matter, how he felt. Fuuma hates him now, and even if he didn't, he should. Kamui knew he deserved all the pain he got, for feeling this way, for failing to protect Kotori, for failing to save Fuuma. It was his fault Fuuma had become this way. He deserved to be beaten, stabbed, and abused. 

And yet, still, he wanted to be loved, he wanted to feel loved so badly that Kamui wondered sometimes if it were possible for his heart to psychically break from sadness, if it could one day it would just quit working, and he'd die. 

Slowly, Kamui sat up on the bed. The moonlight could only barely penetrate through the clouds, and it left the room in near blackness. Swallowing thickly, he pulled down his pajamas. 

The cold hit more harshly than he expected, and he shivered involuntarily. Reaching down, his slender fingers gripped around his already half hard dick. 

Letting out soft noises, Kamui thought about Fuuma. He pictured Fuuma undressing him, his large hands and muscular shoulders, lightly tanned from the summer sun. Fuuma kissing him all over. 

Kamui wondered what it felt like to have someone inside, he wondered if it hurt to be stretched open. He groaned. He wanted Fuuma inside him, stretching him to his limit, coming inside him. What did it feel like to have someone come inside? 

His body let out a violent shudder, and Kamui felt sick from disgust. He shouldn't be thinking of Fuuma this way, not when he'd failed him, not when he'd ruined his life. He shouldn't have felt good when Fuuma licked him or touched him. 

He wanted Fuuma to hurt him. To have him throw his body over, like a doll, and stab him over and over, having the blood flow out and soak his clothes. He wanted Fuuma to take him, use him until he was a bloody mess, broken and stained inside. He pictured Fuuma chocking him, just holding down on Kamui's fragile neck until he could barely breath, then finally letting him have a breath of air, only to kick him in the ribs and nock it out if him. 

Kamui moaned loudly. He wanted Fuuma to hurt him so badly, his body trembling, craving abuse. He pictured the bruises that would form, all pretty shades of red, blue, and purple. Maybe, there would even be black bruises. 

He was so close. He bit down on his lip hard enough for it to break, the salty taste of blood filling his mouth. It still wasn't enough, he wanted love, but if he couldn't have have love, then he needed pain. The memories of the sensation of Fuuma piercing his flesh with glass, felt almost like kisses to him now. 

Kamui wanted to come so badly, but it wasn't enough. He needed more. Shaking, he bit down on his right arm, over and over again, until the skin was torn open, and hot, warm blood ran down. 

That finally did it, and Kamui found himself screaming Fuuma's name. Tears welling up in his eyes, as he came all over his hand and stomach.

Heavily breathing, tears flowing freely now, Kamui looked at his hand, sticky with blood and semen. "Fuuma," he sobbed to the empty room, as he laid down his head, guiltily dreaming and wondering, of how it would feel to be kissed and held like something precious.


End file.
